


Expectations

by an_ace_in_the_hole



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Choking, Could be interpreted as romantic, Fighting, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Major character death - Freeform, Rooftop scene, based on a prompt, but not in a sexual way you fiend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_ace_in_the_hole/pseuds/an_ace_in_the_hole
Summary: Bruce was not having a good day. On top of everything that he has to deal with already, he runs into the Joker during a nightly patrol. What might happen if Bruce went a little too far during the fight?
Relationships: Batman & Joker, Batman/Joker, Bruce Wayne & Joker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for clicking on this fic! It was inspired by a result on this uquiz: 
> 
> https://uquiz.com/quiz/1SxQAI/what-is-your-final-act-as-a-villain
> 
> So yeah, hope you enjoy it!

Bruce was not having a good day, he decided.

For starters, it was the anniversary of his parent’s death. A horrible thing, really, and one that Bruce would rather soon forget. 

Secondly, he had a monumental amount of paperwork piling up back at his office for Wayne Enterprises. He hadn’t been filling anything out recently in anticipation of today, and now he was starting to regret it.

And thirdly, one to put the icing on the cake, he could now see a certain clown standing on the edge of a nearby rooftop. He sighed ( _Nightly patrols were supposed to be easy_ , his mind told him) and started to head over to the building where the Joker was standing. 

He could see the clown placed almost dangerously close to the edge, the very tips of his feet without any ground to stand on. Bruce vaguely wondered what he was doing here. Before he could come up with any theories, though, he could see Joker smile, and from past experience, that was enough of a warning sign for Bruce.

He launched himself at the Joker, pulling him away from the edge. A piece of scrap paper fell out of the clown’s pocket, but Bruce took no notice. It floated to the ground as he ran towards his opponent, crashing into him and forcing him on the ground. Joker puffed out air as he fell, letting out an airy laugh once he regained his bearings.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce growled. He was in no mood to be dealing with this clown right now.

“Ow, hello to you too,” the Joker groaned out, trying to stand up. Bruce grabbed him by his shirt and pinned him against the wall of the stairwell exit, pressing hard. 

“Oh, feisty, are we?” Joker said, grinning. Bruce growled and threw the clown as far as he could across the rooftop. Joker skidded to a stop, his purple suit torn where he had met the ground. 

He scrambled up, pulling out a knife from his pocket. “You wanna dance? C’mon, then, _Batman_ , let’s dance.” 

The clown launched himself at Bruce, the latter dodging the slash of the knife. He landed a punch to Joker’s side, just before the clown swung again with his blade. This time, Bruce wasn’t fast enough to dodge, which resulted in a cut across his right arm.

Now furious (he did _not_ want to deal with this stupid clown right now!), Bruce ran as fast as he could straight into Joker, bringing them both down. Joker laughed, rolling to the side and grabbing another knife from who-knows-where and started slashing at Bruce.

Unable to get away, Bruce kicked at the clown’s general area, managing to hit him in the leg and making him kneel down. Joker stood up quickly, but before he could get away, Bruce was there in front of him. He wrapped his armor-clad fingers around the clown’s neck, lifting him ever so slightly off the ground. He just wanted the Joker to _stop_ , to just leave him alone for at least a day. Especially this one.

Joker huffed out laughter with as much air as he could get from his rival’s tight grasp. This sound only enraged Bruce further, causing him to tighten his grip even more. Soon Joker’s laughs turned into pained gasps, then silent wheezes. He clawed at Bruce’s hand, each movement growing weaker.

“Bats,” he gasped out, trying to get the other man to let him go. But Bruce’s eyes were glazed over now, dull with the memories of his dead parents and the pain that losing them brought. And he was just so angry— so what if Joker couldn’t breathe for a few seconds? He’d be fine. He always is.

Except this time, he wasn’t. Except this time, the clown fell limp in his arm.

Except this time, Bruce forgot to let go.

He blinked several times to pull him out of his memories, his brain slow to process what had just happened. He looked at the clown in front of him— no, not just in front of him, but _held_ by him— and saw the limp body and unseeing eyes. 

“No,” Bruce breathed out in disbelief, quickly setting Joker down on the ground. “No, no, no, no, _no._ ” 

He felt for a pulse, an intake of breath, anything to indicate the clown’s survival. But he was only met with an empty stare and a still body. 

_”No,”_ Bruce choked out, finally breaking. He collapsed to his knees next to Joker’s body, sobbing uncontrollably. He did so for several minutes, letting his heart be torn to shreds every time he looked at the unmoving body before him. 

Eventually, he had no more tears to spare, opting to just sit next to the Joker. Just to be with him. The clown was one of the only constants in his life; he had grown a remarkable bond with him, despite fighting each other on nearly every meeting. Yet, he couldn’t help his feeling of grief at the idea that he had been the one to kill him. He— Bruce— _Batman_ , had killed the Clown Prince of Crime. The mere thought of that was enough to send more sobs through his already battered body.

Bruce stayed like that until the frigid temperatures of the night rose into the cool early morning. Joker’s body was cold all over, any warmth having left him with his final breath. His eyes were still open, staring at the rising sun, his expression only slightly pained. His neck had already bruised into a mix of deep purples and jarring greens. Bruce couldn’t stand the sight of it.

A cool breeze ruffled over the rooftop, making Bruce shiver. He heard a rustling sound as he saw the paper that had fallen out of the clown’s pocket at the beginning of the fight flying in the wind. He grabbed it out of the air, unfurling it. What was written inside knocked the air out of Bruce’s lungs, making him double over with fresh sobs. He cried painfully, letting go of the scrap of paper, it floating in the wind as it spiraled down the side of the building, slowly falling to the ground. It landed face up, revealing the curved handwriting to any early risers who may happen to pass by it.

_“Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh, Bats?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed. Also if you have any ideas of what I should write next, feel free to share!
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @an-ace-in-the-hole


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